The Sylph
I saw you and I named a flower
That lights with blue a woodland space,
I named a bird of the red hour
And a hidden fairy place.
And then I saw you not, and knew
Dead leaves were whirling down the mist,
And something lost was crying through -
An evening of amethyst.
poem by Francis Ledwidge
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.